Stuck In Bad Fan Fiction
by bauerfreak
Summary: Everyone's read them.  Bad fan fiction.  Whether it's bad grammar, asinine pairings, or just GSR, you've wanted to gouge your own eyes out.  Here's a humorous look at bad fan fiction.


_A/N: So, lately, a few of my fellow authors and I have been venting about what we hate about CSI fan fiction, and so I decided today to write a fic about it. Please know this is not directed at any one person, or meant to put anyone down. It's just for fun, because I just know you're going to shake your head and laugh at some of them, thinking, "I read an awful fic like this the other day". And please don't send me any hate mail about any certain thing, because __**this is all in good humor. **__**And if you can't laugh at that, then maybe you should punch yourself in the face.**_

**Don't write me a review that says "it's mean to attack people's ships". I know. That's why it's supposed to be funny. Yes, I realize there's also bad Snickers authors out there too, whoever wrote that asinine review.**

_Thanks to LostLadyKnight for all her superb ideas._

_Without further ado, enjoy…_

_**Bad Grammar**_

Their was a strange sensation in Sara Sidle's mind, as she stood hovered over the evididence table one boring Saturday evening. She counld't shake the feeling that something in her coworkers had changed. They all seemed…dumber. Sure, they all looked the same, but Sara could just tell they're brains weren't quit fuctioning to there normal capacity.

"I need too of you on that 419." Grissom informed his team, looking over his assignment sheets.

"Dont you mean TO." Catherine corrected his grammer matter-of-factly.

Grissom crinkled his eyebrows in confusion, not sure what his coworker was reffering two. Sometimes, Catherine was a real no-it-all.

"I'm they're." Nick nodded in pure good boy-ishness. "Its my favourite type of crime to invetsigate."

Warwick was looking awful-ly confused.

"Warwick, is something bothering you?" Grissom asked the young csi.

He scratched the back of his neck and cleared his throat in distirbance. "Its just that…everyone is making grammatical mistakes that a third grader would make."

Nick nodded and studied his friends face. "I no what you mean. Whoever's writing this fan ficition's grammer is atroscious."

"Obviously, shes never herd of a beta." Catherine said.

Several of them nodded in agreement. "Sarah, what do you think?"

Sarah looked at her coworkers in confusion. "Who's Warwick?"

_**Lack of spacing/Quotations unclear**_

The scene faded out, thankfully, and Sara realized she was now somewhere else She was in yet another bad fan fiction with no punctuation and no spacing Even though Microsoft Word probably pointed out to the writer that she had not included a single period in over half a page, she continues to write Not that it's frustrating for a reader to have to put a ruler up on the computer screen to stay on the correct line Sara realized the writer must have also skipped second grade writing class and was never informed about paragraphs either My, my it was getting ugly Anyways, back to the scene Greg and Sara walked into the lab to talk to Wendy about a case they were all working on "How's it going?" "Not too bad Just waiting on results from you" "Really, that's awesome" "Yeah I know" "Yea I think so too" There was an awkward silence, when Mandy finally spoke up "You know, I'm not sure who's talking to who when the writer doesn't identify who the speaker is" "I know what you mean. I don't know if I'm speaking, or if it's Sara." "That is soooo frustrating".

_**The CSI's in High School**_

Strange music was heard in Sara's mind, and suddenly she was transformed somewhere else. She was in an uncomfortable, rock-hard seat, listening to an insanely boring lecture from an old, senile woman. Sara realized she was back in high school. And not just that, but all her CSI coworkers, even the ones that were nowhere near her age and belonged in a different era, were all sitting in class with her. They were all in tenth grade history class together. At the same high school!! Even though they were known to be from different parts of the country!!

There was Greg. He looked the exact same, only with a large amount of pimples. Grissom still looked old – can anyone really picture him as a high schooler? That's why Sara realized fics like these were so pointless and asinine. Sara noticed a very handsome lady-killer in the corner of the room. Warrick Brown was nothing like the 'four eyed' geek he'd talked about being countless times.

Catherine is sitting in front of Sara and turns around during a particular boring part of the lesson. "OMG! This is sooo lame."

Sara looked at her as if she'd never seen Catherine before in her life. She leaned forward so she wouldn't get in trouble for talking. "Tell me, Cath. What's the point of reading about the CSI's in high school when, as characters, we're all completely unrecognizable? I mean, this fic isn't even really a CSI fic anymore is it?"

Catherine narrowed her eyes at her coworker/classmate. "You bitch."

Sara was shocked. Her mouth gaped open as the bell to end class sounded in the otherwise quiet classroom. The teenaged CSI's filed out into the hallway. Somehow, they were all good friends, kind of like in Saved By the Bell, and all met up next to Cath's locker.

Greg was wearing a wifebeater top with acid wash jeans, and tried to put the swerve on the two beautiful ladies before him. "So…Sara. I noticed you were reading 'Moby Dick'. How would you like to be introduced to another dick?"

Sara slapped him but giggled in a way she didn't recognize. When had she ever giggled like a teenage girl? Greg rubbed his cheek and turned his attention to Catherine.

"Are those moon pants? Cause that ass is out of this world." He grinned suavely, concentrating on making himself the adorable punk-nerd he was. Cath just shook her head and looked over at Nick, who was scratching at his crotch profusely.

"Nicky? You okay?" She asked him. He started slapping at his manhood.

"I've got jock itch really bad."

Grissom looked up from playing with his pet earthworm, "Earthworm Jim", and grinned. "Maybe Catherine can lick it better." He laughed nerdily, then got all red-faced in embarrassment. Gil knew he shouldn't talk dirty. "Don't tell my parents I said that."

_**Slash**_

Suddenly, Sara was transported into a bedroom, which she recognized as Grissom's, since the walls were covered with pickled animal limbs, rare spiders, and large grasshoppers. She almost threw up in her mouth when she realized there were two men in the bed in front of her, and they weren't watching TV. Luckily, they were under the covers, so she couldn't quite see.

"Oh, Poncho!" Gil moaned.

"Oh, Bugsy!" Nick answered.

"Poncho!!"

"Harder, Bugsy! Don't go easy on me!"

"I'm gonna spray a spider web on you!"

"I love how wrinkly your balls are!"

Both then let out guttural moans, as they reached the climax of their rendezvous. They panted hard, the ebb of their ecstasy still coursing through their bodies. Nick and Grissom both lit up a cigarette and sat up near the headboard, and just then, Greg walked in with some KY jelly and a few chunks of fudge. He sighed theatrically and looked at the two men in disappointment.

"You guys!!" He exclaimed. "You're in trouble now. You got frisky without me?" Greg shook his head and then propelled himself into the middle of the bed. "Are you up for round three with the double-sided dildo?"

Nick licked his lips at the sight of the dessert. "Is that fudge?"

Greg nodded and smiled proudly. "My favorite. You know how I like to pack fudge."

Sara literally wanted to perform a lobotomy on herself, having seen and heard this last scene. Just as her brain was about to implode upon itself, she felt a pair of sweet, feminine arms surround her abdomen, and a tender kiss was placed on her neck. Sara turned her head to see Catherine.

"Don't worry, baby. The double-sided dildo is safe. I hid it under our bed."

_**Bad Pairings**_

Sara realized she was now out of the god-awful dream, but feared now that she was being taken to an even worse place. Now, she was walking on a sidewalk at night. As she looked down, she was in her best duds, looking glam, and realized she'd done her hair so it curled. She was wearing a pretty deep green tanktop, paired with some light denim jeans and some high heels. Soon, she came to realize why. She was on a date…with Warrick.

"That was a really nice kiss we had back there." Warrick commented in his low, suave, sexy voice. His green eyes met her brown. Sara was sure she looked disgusted, because Warrick all of a sudden seemed offended.

"I…kissed you?" She stumbled.

"Yea, it was hot. Can't you sense the chemistry between us?" He then started breaking out in the song, 'The Chemicals Between Us' by Bush.

Sara shook his arm to get him to stop, hoping he didn't enjoy it too much. "There's no more chemicals between us than I have with my brother!"

"What are you talking about? We're Swarrick! It has a nice ring to it!"

They were interrupted by two other couples running up behind them.

"Wait for us!!" Sophia called, clasping Nick's hand as they raced up behind their two friends. Behind them, Brass and Catherine were huffing and puffing a bit, since they were getting pretty old.

Soon, SoNic had caught up with Swarrick. "Sorry, we were having a quickie in the alley back there." Nick explained, then smiled and nudged noses with Sophia. "You are quite the detective, ma'am. You frisked me like no one ever has."

Meanwhile, Catherine and Brass were slowly catching up, and had resorted to walking for their hearts' sakes. They were trying to come up with a name for their ship, since it was so random, no one had even thought of one.

"How about Wass? Or Brillow Pad?" Catherine suggested, giggly as a schoolgirl.

I think the best so far is Brillow Pad." Jim smiled and leaned in for a sweet, sensual kiss. Sara screamed, and she was instantly transported to another scene.

_**Insanely out of character**_

Sara walked into the layout room to find Greg, Grissom, Nick, Warrick, and Catherine, all hunched over a piece of paper, giggling and laughing about whatever they were doing. Nick was in charge of writing, apparently, and was struggling not to cry as he wrote down what the others were telling him. Sara walked up to the opposite side of the table and watched her coworkers suspiciously.

"Wwwwhat are you guys doing?" She asked them straight up. All of them started cracking up. Greg seemed to be able to compose himself long enough to get it out.

"We're writing down the most out of character things for all of us to do – and then we're gonna do 'em in this really lame fic!"

They all burst out laughing again, and Sara quirked an eyebrow at them. What was so great about having the CSI's do things that were out of character? Was it gratifying, to some writers, to have them perform actions they would never in a million years do on the show?

"Such as…" Sara waited for an explanation.

"Like Nick…is gonna talk in a British accent!" Catherine said. "And Greg…he's gonna be an asshole. Warrick's gonna get addicted to Crazy Eights instead of gambling!!"

"And this is funny because…"

"That's the funny part! These writers are so serious trying to characterize us differently, when really, they're ruining the epitome of our characters!" Nick explained.

"What do you have for me?" Sara inquired, slightly curious.

"Ummm…table dancing, singing at a karaoke bar, telling a battered woman to quit crying and toughen up. Oh, and you're suddenly attracted to highly available, decent men, and are now validating yourself in appropriate places."

"Wow, that is out of character!" Sara exclaimed. "Oh, oh! I have a good one for Ecklie!"

"What is it?" They all chorused, perfectly timed.

"He could NOT be an asshole!"

They all laughed hysterically, because the mere thought of it was pure hilarity. Wow, the CSI's being OOC was both stupid and wildly non-entertaining.

_**Group vacation**_

Sara next found herself on a beautiful beach, listening to the wave crash into the seashore, with the seagulls cooing in the background. She opened her eyes, and realized all her coworkers were laying in chairs to her left and right, in their bathing suits, just like she was. Some were definitely eye candy to look at – Nick was as sexy as ever, and Warrick definitely was easy on the eyes. Grissom was up trying to collect bug and sand specimens. He looked pasty and white, and his beer belly was surely getting burned. Catherine still looked like a stripper, and Greg was all college-boy.

They were outside of work, and away from the roles and rules that tied them down at the office. Surely, this must be a liberating, exciting adventure for them all, to get to know each other outside of work. Only, from what Sara could tell, it wasn't. They all laid there for about twenty minutes, and no one said a work, because no one knew what to say to each other.

"I need to report a 10-65 on the sunblock." Nick deadpanned, thinking their CSI humor would be appreciated, but no one even smiled, let alone laughed.

Warrick turned his face to look at Nick. "Who the hell thought it was a good idea to send us on a group vacation?"

Nick shrugged. "Well, I bet they thought we'd want to get crazy, bar-hopping, sleeping with each other. Only, outside of work, we generally don't know how to function around each other. It's just too weird, man."

"I know. I mean, just what am I supposed to say to Grissom?"

Warrick sighed and shrugged as they watched him tug a poor, shiny red crab from the ocean. "I don't know. But we can tell everyone he came back with crabs."

_**GSR**_

Sara could now feel she was underneath someone, and her back was flat on his bed, which smelled faintly of formaldehyde. The wrinkly, slightly pudgy man, was grunting and breathing quite heavily, given his current workout. Yes, Sara could barely feel it – they were having sex. Sara grimaced at the thought, and couldn't believe that she had let things go so far. To have his wrinkly, old man balls touching her own, younger skin, and his bowlegedness now not much of a thought, but a reality.

She pushed him off, not wanting this to go any further than it already had. Buhhhh.

"I can't believe we're finally together, Sara." Grissom whispered, using his old, spindly fingers to reach out and touch her face. "I mean. I rejected you so many times. Made you feel completely unwanted – like that time you asked me out to dinner, but I turned you down. And when I didn't understand about you being a vegetarian. And when I went out with Sophia instead. And when I ignored you when you said, 'Why do you think I moved to Vegas?'.And when I slept with Lady Heather. And when I pinned you up against that bloody sheet…"

"Okay, Grissom. Yes, I remember." She told him shortly. Sara rubbed at her temples, because now she had a headache. Then, Grissom started singing to an old Cat Stevens song.

"I love my bugs as much I love you…" He sang out of tune, "But you may fade, my bugs will always come through."

Sara screamed again in pure disgust and frustration, and all of a sudden, she was sitting up, wide awake in her own bed, trying to catch her breath. It had all been a nightmare. Thank God. She closed her eyes, and breathed a sigh of relief that none of it had been true – not in real life. She wasn't a lesbian for Cath, she didn't have bad grammar, and she certainly wasn't letting Grissom have sex with her. Sara then felt a large, warm hand stroking her back soothingly. She turned to see her boyfriend, Nick, sitting up next to her to calm her.

"You okay, babe?" He asked in his trademark Texan accent as he rubbed circles over her tanktop. Sara smiled as she received a kiss from him on her temple – one of those slow, lingering kisses that made her feel so loved.

"Yeah. I just had a nightmare." She scrubbed a hand over her face and swept her hair back over the top of her head.

"I'm sorry. Wanna tell me about it?" He gently guided her backwards so she could lie back again on the bed.

Sara chuckled and shook her head. There were so many things he didn't need to know about; that would probably disturb him. "I don't think so. It would probably give you nightmares for weeks."


End file.
